Missing
by heart of tortall
Summary: Alanna's been missing for six months, and Jon's growing worried. Not sure if there's even a plot in here, but all the same, enjoy. Oneshot, kind of angstyand fluffy. R&R!


**Missing **

Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to Tamora Pierce.

My first fic! Take mercy on me, please. Suggestions are welcome!

* * *

Jonathan IV of Conté, King of Tortall, paced in his vast study overlooking the bustling city of Corus. An old woman carried a child on her hip as she balanced a basket in the other arm; a priest and two acolytes of the Black God hurried through the streets, their hoods down; the Guards at the gate to the palace checked visitors before admitting entrance. Ever day Jon looked out over this landscape; yet ever day a part seemed missing in him. And he knew what it was.

Alanna.

She had gone adventuring in May, and now it was November, without even a note from her telling where she had gone. This was too eerily like when Alanna went questing for the Dominion Jewel before Jon was crowned King. Except this time Jon had no idea if Alanna was dead, alive, still in the realm, or in Carthak for Mithros knows why. He had tried the Bazhir, but they reported that she had left them after a short stay.

Alanna.

The door swung open, and Jon turned to face whoever stood there. Instead of the copper-haired woman he longed to see, Gary stood there, a pile of documents in his arms. Raoul stood beside him.

"Still no sign of her?" Gary asked as he and Raoul entered.

Jon rubbed his eyes. "No," he replied, scanning the city once again before looking at the documents Gary had placed on his desk. "Mithros—do I have to sign all of those?"

"I'm afraid so," Gary said as Raoul snorted at the expression on Jon's face. Jon sent Raoul a death glare.

"They're for the treaty between Tortall and Galla," Gary continued, pretending not to have seen Raoul and Jon's silent exchange.

Jon groaned and picked up the first sheaf of papers, shooing his friends out.

"If I have to go through all of these, I might as well do it in relative peace," he told them, glaring at Raoul in particular. Raoul waved and flashed a cheeky smile before walking off, Gary right behind him.

Once his friends were out of view, Jon shut the door again. His friends thought that Jon worried for Alanna as a knight-master might worry for his squire (which had been true when Jon had been a knight), or of one that was worried for his dearest friend.

But Alanna had been more than a friend. She had been his friend, his squire, at times even his conscience, and his lover.

Alanna had always thought that Delia of Eldorne had been his first, but Jon had been as much a virgin as Alanna had been that night on Alanna's seventeenth birthday.

And now when Jon lay down on his bed, coldness greeted him instead of Alanna's warmth. Jon knew that he was attractive and he could pick someone to share his bed with from any of the silly noblewomen who threw themselves at him.

But they weren't Alanna.

* * *

Jon pored over the documents regarding the Gallan treaty, making occasional changes. Soon, the sun started sinking as the sky darkened. Jon rang for a servant to bring up his dinner. He really didn't want to put in an appearance at dinner that night.

Dinner gone, and candles lit, Jon pushed aside the documents and went to sit in front of the fire, selecting a book to read.

However, Jon wasn't in the mood for reading. His mind buzzed with thoughts, focusing on one sole subject: Alanna.

Alanna's face played in front of Jon's eyes: smiling Alanna, furious Alanna, remorseful Alanna, disgusted Alanna.

_Alanna_.

Her laugh sounded in his ears, tart voice reprimanding him, moans of pleasure as her hot breath caressed his ear.

Jon bowed his head. Now he understood how his father had felt like when his mother had died.

"Alanna," he whispered staring into the fire. This was the same room where she had swore fealty to him just a year and some months ago, where she had comforted him as he grieved for the loss of his parents…

The door creaked open, and Jon whirled around. A knight limped through the door, in familiar mail. Reaching Jon, the knight knelt, and slowly removed the helm.

Amethyst met sapphire as Jon stared into the eyes he wished for so long to see.

"Mithros—please don't do this to me," Jon whispered, breaking the long silence. He cupped Alanna's chin, silently praying that she was real, and the gods wouldn't torment him. "Alanna," he murmured, too overcome with emotion to say much else.

"Jon," she said simply, violet eyes brimming with unshed tears. Ignoring protocol she stood up and hugged Jon, who hugged her back, hands exploring the body he had missed for so long.

Alanna twisted her head around and met Jon's lips in a sweet kiss.

"It's a bit hot in here," she said, and began shedding the mail she had worn, revealing travel-worn and dusty shirt and breeches underneath.

Once her mail had been piled neatly on the side, Jon sank back in his chair, pulling Alanna into his lap.

"Alanna…come to bed with me."

Alanna stood up, and Jon thought that she was going to refuse.

"It's only my first night back," she said, and held up a hand when Jon opened his mouth.

"But show me the way."

-_fin_-


End file.
